


Hooked Into Machine

by viklikesfic (v_angelique)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bottom Steve Rogers, Dirty Talk, Dom Tony Stark, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Fucking Machine, Humiliation, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Power Exchange, Sex Toys, Slurs, Sub Steve Rogers, Top Tony Stark, fucked to exhaustion, tech kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:15:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28947273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_angelique/pseuds/viklikesfic
Summary: Written for STB Bingo prompt: Tech Kink.CW: Heavy humiliation in a D/s relationship. I think it all falls under that umbrella warning this time.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 4
Kudos: 243
Collections: STB Bingo: Round One





	Hooked Into Machine

**Author's Note:**

> Written for STB Bingo prompt: Tech Kink.
> 
> CW: Heavy humiliation in a D/s relationship. I think it all falls under that umbrella warning this time.

Being in a kinky relationship with Tony Stark is everything Steve didn’t know he needed in the 21st century. He gets out all his dark, fucked up desires through their relationship, and often a way to work off the emotions of day-to-day life as an Avenger. One night, Tony calls him down to the workshop level, and he’s a little shocked to find Tony’s been working on a very  _ complex _ fucking machine, complete with a decent-sized dildo hooked up by tubing to a massive supply of what Tony assures him is synthetic come. 

“I wanted to humiliate you properly,” Tony explains, as if this is completely logical. “It’s one of your kinks.”

“I didn’t know you owned… sex furniture.”

“I didn’t. I built this. And the dildo. And synthesized the come.” Tony looks worried. “It’s a very hot kink, to be fair.”

Steve smiles a little. “Okay. Well… at least the dildo looks fairly basic?”

“Oh,” Tony snickers. “So you’re saying I  _ shouldn’t  _ tell you that it’s got built-in pressure and temperature sensors and communicates with the machine via a rudimentary AI I programmed specifically for fucking you?” Steve’s jaw has actually dropped open. A sexbot should be a logical gift coming from Tony Stark, but still it’s strangely romantic. “Well, I know how much Captain America hates liars. I wouldn’t want to be a liar, would I, boy?” Tony slaps his ass hard. 

“No, Sir.”

“No, Sir, that’s right. That’s  _ exactly _ right. Bend over, boyfriend.” Steve situates himself and the machine absolutely reams him open, its tip already wet with gobs of synthetic come, leaving him gasping and almost gagging as it fucks him. Then Tony turns away to his  _ work _ , and Steve nearly loses his mind. But the thing is, he could escape at any time. There are few things in Tony’s possession that could effectively bind him, and Steve knows it. The point isn’t for this to be inescapable. The point is that he doesn’t  _ want _ to escape because he’s such a desperate slut. That’s the thought that keeps him going, that plugs into the humiliation of being shoved down and fucked relentlessly by a machine while his boyfriend works. He wants this. God he  _ wants _ this. 

Steve comes like that, twice. Then three times. After each orgasm Steve will look up, hoping, thinking that maybe  _ now _ Tony will have made his point and want to walk over. Or maybe he’ll eventually just forget that Steve is even  _ there _ , which is so hot that his time to next orgasm is reduced by nearly two minutes off the baseline curve. But each time, Tony just says “keep going” in a reassuring, but distracted tone, making Steve think he really is deep in a project and JARVIS is just cueing him to check when Steve comes. 

Slowly, Steve starts to lose it. Five orgasms. Seven. He feels so owned, so used, so dominated. He’s never felt quite this deep before. He loses track of time and forgets to even look up at Tony after another overpowering climax. He forgets that he even wants to escape. 

“You see, Rogers,” Tony muses when this happens, suddenly quite close and standing over Steve’s body. “You never had to learn about the family business when you were young. You don’t know about what it means to control a company, what it means to have a controlling interest as opposed to full ownership.” He draws out the word “ownership,” a low purr. 

“I own... many things,” Tony continues, crouching down by Steve’s bottom and inspecting his sloppy ass, absolutely squelching with synthetic come, reamed open by the expanding robotic dildo that has  _ far _ more functions than Steve had expected. “ _ Many _ things. But I also  _ control _ more than you can dream of, Rogers.” He gives Steve’s ass a pat, then says the words “ignore input, maximum rough,” and the machine feels like it’s coring inside his body, like it’s literally drilling him open, the dildo twisting and expanding still wider, no longer responding directly to his body’s signals. He squeals and it pulses inside him. 

“So I may not be able to own your ass, technically speaking,” Tony smiles, absently rubbing one jiggling cheek. “But I can control it. Keyed uniquely to my voice print,” he explains, and Steve nearly comes on the spot. “Maybe I’ll make it come on you and in you right thought a night of sleep? How would you like that, Cap? Getting fucked awake by a machine to which I’ve delegated routine maintenance of your asshole?” Tony smirks. Sometimes Steve hates the bastard. 

“Do you want that, Sir?” is all that comes out of his needy mouth, though. He can barely form coherent words. The toy is still drilling him, the machine fucking in long bold strokes. It kills any negative emotion he could possibly have, turning him into a drooling slut for its relentless pace. He’s so far gone.

“Yeah, I think I might. I’ve got so much of this come here, and I can make it cheap. Maybe I just want my machine to water you with jizz all night. JARVIS can take pictures while you’re sleeping, video even. Maybe you’ll hump like a little bitch in your sleep when you feel the splashes on your skin. Think you’ll find it comforting, Cap? Nice security blanket for a greedy comedump?”

Steve can neither clench nor stretch his ass muscles. He’s completely lost control, and it feels heavenly. The machine makes him into its fuckdoll, his prostate a fun trigger to make the dollie explode in pained shakes, and his brain functionally irrelevant. He slumps in his bonds and moans aloud as he hears the heavy treads of Tony, once again walking away.


End file.
